Slowdive
by crypticnotions
Summary: A series of drabbles set around the Melinda Warner/Olivia Benson pairing.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

A/N: Same-sex relationship. If it's not your thing, please keep truckin'.

A series of drabbles set around Melinda Warner and Olivia Benson. The timeline will jump all over the place as the drabbles are not linear, but will have hints of their time periods. May go up in rating in the future.

* * *

The first time they kiss it is sweet and slow and tastes like the too-expensive coffee that is served around the corner of Melinda's new apartment.

Olivia tries not to relish how Melinda's fingers feel in her hair and on her neck. She tries not to get used to the way her hands feel entwined deep in Melinda's curls. She tries not to memorize the sensitive spot on Melinda's throat that causes her to moan into Olivia's mouth.

It would be a mistake to get attached to this, whatever this is. Melinda is not divorced; she is only separated.

When Olivia touches the soft skin on Melinda's back, she knows it's already too late. She is already too far in to stop.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: SVU is not mine.

* * *

"You shouldn't have, Detective." There is an icy undertone to the Medical Examiner's voice.

Olivia stays quiet. Elliot isn't the only one pissed at Olivia's radio silence since her return from Oregon. Melinda has been distant, reverting back to using Olivia's title, something she hasn't done in years. It is clear that before Olivia's undercover assignment, there was something burgeoning between them, some strand of connection that has nothing to do with work or mere friendship.

Olivia watches Melinda's nimble fingers lift the top off the red packaged box. Melinda inhales sharply when she removes the tissue paper. Inside is a homemade lavender knit hat, a specialty gift created by one of the few friends Olivia acquired during her stint away.

"It's beautiful. You shouldn't have." Melinda's tone is soft now; all traces of ice have melted.

Olivia knows how much Melinda hates the cold. She also knows how much the doctor loves the color purple.

"It was nothing," she says, but her eyes plead, _"I'm sorry. I know I screwed up. Please forgive me."_

Melinda smiles and places the cap over her tight curls. She looks at her warped reflection in one the scales hanging from the ceiling of the morgue.

She eyes the detective with warmth. "Thank you, Olivia." _"It's okay. This time. I forgive you."_


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks for the patience and the lovely reviews. I got a little carried away with this chapter so it's a bit longer. I hope you all enjoy.

Again, none of the characters are mine. Also, there is no linear timeline so the chapters skip all over. I will try to reference another chapter if I wish to connect a chapter to a previous one.

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She sits still and waits.

For the last fifteen minutes they have nursed coffees, black and strong for Olivia and creamed and sugared for her, in a diner three blocks from the precinct.

In the last two weeks, their meet-ups have been so regular that Gladys, the owner of Little Deb's, pulls out two mugs when she sees them step inside and shimmy out of the winter coats attached to them.

They have been through all the available topics: Elliot, Kathy, Elliot's kids, Olivia's mom, Cragen, Fin, Munch, Melinda's husband and daughter. Yesterday, they even talked about the unique smell of formaldehyde, something Melinda thought she'd never do, outside of joking with her husband about it being her preferred brand of perfume.

So she sits and waits because she knows that all of this build up will lead to Olivia's emotional dam breaking.

As if Olivia could read her thoughts, the Detective gasps into her mug after taking a sip.

"I can't believe…" Olivia starts, her hand clenches around the cup and she places it down on the worn wooden table.

"There's nothing you could have done differently, Liv."

"I'm supposed to be a detective. I'm supposed to be able to protect myself."

There is bitterness in Olivia's tone that concerns Melinda. Olivia is master of self-loathing and self-blame.

Melinda is silent. She wants to spout out clichés about Olivia being as prepared as possible, but she knows that would be empty rhetoric to Olivia. It's likely that Olivia has mentally relived her ordeal thousands of times in an attempt to understand what she thinks went wrong.

"What is this really about?" Melinda finally asks.

Olivia lifts her eyes to Melinda's in confusion. "What?"

"You told me Fin did his best. You did your best. What is keeping you from moving to the next stage in dealing with this?"

Melinda knows that people process sexual assault in different ways, and if this were anyone but Olivia, she would find this reaction normal. However, from her friendship with the Detective, she's positive there is something external to the event that has Olivia mired to this particular emotional spot.

Olivia looks out the window. There are a couple of kids making dirty snowballs to toss at each other from the remaining patches of snow from the storm that hit earlier in the week.

When Olivia looks back at Melinda the Medical Examiner has to will herself not to flinch. There is such raw emotion in Olivia's eyes.

"What if my mom was right? What if I can't handle being a detective in the long run? I don't have anything or anybody."

"Oh, Liv," Melinda starts, "you do have people: Fin, Munch, Cragen, hell, even Elliot. And you always have me." She reaches out and squeezes Olivia's hand. The Detective grips her hand back and just for a second Melinda feels the slight tinge of something that she's not sure about.

Gladys shows up just as Melinda needs to break both eye and physical contact. Melinda has never been happier to see the gray-haired woman as she is now.

"More coffee?" Gladys asks. She holds a steaming pot of freshly brewed coffee out to them.

Both women shake their heads and Melinda fiddles with slinking back into the coat draped over the back of her chair.

They walk to the door in silence. They always break up at the door. The M.E.'s office is in the opposite direction of the precinct. Before Melinda can brave the cold, Olivia reaches down and catches her now gloved hand.

"Thank you, Melinda."

Melinda nods. "Anytime."

They part and Melinda wonders what tomorrow's coffee break will bring them.

* * *

AN: This is about Sealview. I hope the telling of the story makes this clear, but just in case I haven't done my storytelling job well enough, that's what this is all about.


	4. Chapter 4

Not. Positive.

It is only two words, yet she can't ignore the relief she feels.

She sits in a bar clutching an ice cold mug of whatever golden ale this bar has on tap. She's not even sure where she is. She remembers walking out of the building, calling a cab and now she is here – remembering.

"You okay?"

She doesn't look up at the voice, just stares at the bubbles floating and popping in her drink.

She returns the warm squeeze of the hand that touches hers.

They sit there, their silence only broken by deep breathing and the occasional slurp of beer.

"I don't know what I would have done," she finally says.

"There are advances in the medication, Liv. You would live."

She raises her eyes. "Would I?"

They both return to silence. There are a lot of questions she has. Many of them jolt her with their sharp barbs about how tenuous her life is. She knows things have changed. HIV/AIDS is no longer the death sentence it was. She also knows that while the mortality rate is lower, the stigma isn't.

"Yes." The answer is said so firmly that Olivia startles.

They aren't that close. Yet. However, she knows they are definitely on the path to being so. She looks closer, deeper into the eyes of her companion and knows she would indeed live.


	5. Chapter 5

They are at a gala that is not required (yet required) that they attend.

Olivia stands in her one formal gown, a floor length satin black dress with one shoulder covered and the other exposed. Her hair is in some complicated updo that Casey managed to wrestle it into.

She stands at a table near the open bar, rolling a beer bottle between her warm fingers. The condensation is long gone and the beer is bordering on hot.

She can't help but stare at the center of the room. A surprisingly agile Munch is twirling Melinda around the dance floor. Melinda laughs her full-throated laugh as Munch leans in to whisper into her ear.

"They look nice, don't they?"

Olivia glides her gaze over to Fin. She takes in his tailored suit and fresh haircut. She knows this isn't his scene either, but he manages to fit in somehow.

He lifts his chin in a sharp movement, gesturing toward the spinning pair.

Olivia makes a non-committal grunt. Her eyes focus back on the moving duo.

"Hard not to be jealous," he adds.

Olivia's head jerks upward so swiftly that she feels her head swim a little.

"I guess." She winces at her own voice. Good thing this isn't a game of poker. She knows she has shown all of her cards.

"It's okay, you know."

Her body flushes with dread. Still, she has to ask, "What?"

He stares out at the dance floor. "Realizing you love someone."

A spike of something courses through her. She's never said the words to herself, but she knows they are true. He picks up his champagne and leaves her to nurse her shocked heart.

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AN: Thanks for all the reviews! I hope you're enjoying this if you are reading it.


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